Revelations
by crookshanks the kitty
Summary: A one-shot Dramione set during HBP. "You know Malfoy, if you need some incentive, think of how mad this will make Ron. I know you love tormenting him." She says with a bitter smile.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!

Hermione Granger is having an awful morning–an awful term actually. Mostly due to a certain insensitive and disgusting Gryffindor couple. Who are the offending duo? Why, her best friend Ronald Weasley and the vapid Lavender Brown of course. They were simply nauseating in their outward displays of affection. It makes her sick. The other more glaring reason that she was so bothered by the pair was the minor detail of her being in love with one Ron Weasley. Yes—she loves him and he ignores her in favor of another. Hermione hates having to witness their sloppy kisses and to see Lavender's gloating expression everytime she sees them together. Harry's shameless cheating in potions class with the help of that shady book and his ceaseless need to point out every five minutes that Malfoy was a death eater—without any real proof at that— also has her irritated beyond belief. As she heads to lunch, she thinks just how much she hates everything and how it all cannot possibly get any worse.

Draco Malfoy is having a horrible morning—make that a horrible term. He is in deep—much too deep—with the Dark Lord. He has a fucking dark mark branded on his arm for god's sake. He also has the seemingly impossible task of murdering Albus Dumbledore. Succeed and live or fail and die along with his family. Those are his choices. He does not want to die so he works tirelessly on mending the vanishing cabinet in the room of hidden things. It is not going well but he must continue. Death is not an option. He is failing most of his classes because the mending of the cabinet takes up so much of his time that there is barely any left to spend on studies. Not that he cares. About his studies that is. They don't matter anymore. Not when he has pledged a lifetime of servitude to a murdering psychopath. As he heads to lunch, he thinks (not for the first time) just how much he hates what his life has become.

* * *

It is Christmas time and Hogwarts is all decked out in it's holiday finery. Neither Hermione Granger or Draco Malfoy take much notice of these changes as they both walk through the entrance hall and into the already full Great hall for lunch ( they are late) with a smattering of other students. They have just reached the four house tables and are about to turn in different directions so as to go to their respective tables when it happens. Try as they might, they cannot move from the spot they are occupying. Thy both look up simultaneously and glare at the other accusingly.

"What have you done, Granger? Why can't I move from here?" Draco snarls menacingly.

"Me? I have done nothing at all, _Malfoy._ " Hermione snaps.

"So why am I stuck here with you for then?" He retorts.

"I clearly do not know or I would have fixed it and be gone by now." She grinds out.

They both are speaking loudly, not taking any care of who hears them. For some reason unknown to both of them, the place has gone eerily quite until the silence is shattered by giggle.

Lavender fucking Brown, Hermione thinks venomously as she recognizes the owner of the sound.

Who the hell is laughing at me? Draco thinks, annoyed as he hears the giggle.

"I think the two of you should look above your heads." Lavender manages to get out before collapsing in a fit of giggles again.

Hermione shoots her a scathing look.

Draco glares at her.

Then they both look up.

Suspended in midair, right above both of their heads, is a sprig of what can only be Hogwarts' famous enchanted mistletoe.

In dawning horror, Hermione Granger's mouth falls open as she realizes exactly what she's standing under. She remembers her earlier observation that things cannot possibly get worse for her. She is wrong. They just did.

When Draco Malfoy realizes what is above his head, he thinks that he really, _really_ fucking hates his life.

"Professor Flitwick!" Hermione shrieks, "Please help get this thing away!"

Draco silently agrees with her.

The tiny professor get's up from his chair at the high table and walks all the way to the seething pair.

"What is it miss Granger?" he asks.

"You need to get rid of this mistletoe." she pleads and gestures at the floating plant.

"I am sorry, miss Granger but I can't do that." the professor replies.

"What do you mean you can't do that?" Draco demands.

"Yes, why can't you?" Hermione squeaks.

"I can't do anything because this mistletoe will only be gone when the enchantment wears off or when you two kiss." he answers patiently.

"I'm not kissing _her_!" Draco growls.

"As if I would ever kiss _you_!" Hermione screams.

"Well,children, your only choice is to wait it out then." Flitwick shrugs.

"We will." they say in unison.

"How long will it be before the charm wears off, professor?" Hermione asks.

The Charms professor whips out his wand, points it at the mistletoe and performs a quick spell. In reaction to his spell, two words in glittering gold letters appear above the mistletoe.

Twelve hours.

Both Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy share the same thought.

They're fucked.

"Well there you have it, kiss or stay here for the next twelve hours." Flitwick says regretfully as he walks back up to the high table.

"What the hell are we going do do now?" Groans, Hermione.

"I don't know but I hope you enjoy standing because there is no way I'm fucking I'm letting a mudblood like you touch me." Draco says rudely.

"Oh sod off, Malfoy. Like I would even _want_ to touch _you."_ She retorts.

They are at a stalemate for ten minutes, not speaking or looking in each others direction. The room watches eagerly to see what will happen next, their food momentarily forgotten.

She wavers first.

"Let's...let's just do it, Malfoy." She mutters in a pained voice. " Don't give me that look. I know I'm about the last person in the world you would ever want to kiss and believe me, I'm not fond of the idea either but we really can't stand here for the next twelve hours." she implores.

"Why not?" he asks childishly.

"Because it's twelve bloody hours that's why. We have classes to attend and homework to do. We will need to eat. Go to the bathroom and go to sleep. How will we do all that if we're stuck here? Not to mention that our legs will really hurt after standing in one place for so long." she explains impatiently.

He thinks she makes some good points. He thinks of all the valuable time that will be wasted if he stays here—time that can be spent fixing vanishing cabinet—so he gives a slow, reluctant nod of his head in answer.

She sighs in relief.

"Good. Let's get on with it then." she says bravely.

He looks sick and doesn't respond.

"Just close your eyes and pretend it's not me. Pretend it's Parkinson or something." she grimaces.

He snorts and says, "So you will be pretending I'm Weasley then I take it?"

At the sound of 'Weasley', she turns to look over at the Gryffindor table and seeks Ron out. He's there, sitting next to Lavender. He looks worried and she wonders why he even cares who she kisses since he doesn't want her. She also sees Harry and Ginny. They both look sympathetic. She looks back to where Ron and Lavender are. They're now holding hands on the table. Lavender looks smug and Ron looks annoyed as well as worried now. It makes Hermione angry to see him bothered because he has no right to be. Not anymore. She takes a glance at the Slytherin table. Crabbe ad Goyle seem confused and Pansy looks as if she wants to cry and vomit at the same time. A sick sort of pleasure enters Hermione's mind and she thinks of how much Ron is hurting her now. Of how much Pansy has hurt her in the past. She does not want to kiss Malfoy—far from it—but kissing him will make Ronald and Pansy seethe and she revels in the fact.

"You know Malfoy, if you need some incentive, think of how mad this will make Ron. I know you love tormenting him." She says with a bitter smile

He throws his head back and laughs at the Slytheriness of her statement.

"How devious of you,Granger." He smirks.

It's his turn to look at the tables. She's right, Weasley looks murderous. Potter not so much. He is still bothered though. Pansy looks miserable and he thinks it serves her right for latching on to him with her ridiculously annoying self when he doesn't even like her that much and has made it clear to her many times. Kissing Granger will definitely make them all disgusted. All the more reason to do it—even though he really doesn't want to— he will.

"So are we going to do it or not?" she demands.

"Yes. Give me a minute will you?" he snaps.

He really doesn't want to put his lips on a mudblood. Especially since it's Granger.

Hermione knows he's never going to be the one to take the initiative so she will have to.

So before he even knows what's happening, she grabs the front of his robes and pulls him to towards her before pulling his head down and attaching her lips to his.

There is a collective gasp throughout the room but they pay no mind to it because from the moment their lips met, they were lost in each other.

Hermione doesn't know what she expected but it is not this. His lips are soft—softer than she would ever have believed.

It feels so good she thinks. Too good.

She moans and her mouth opens.

His tongue seeks entrance and she lets him.

He tastes like peppermint and sin.

She cannot get enough so she moves her hands from his chest and puts her arms around his neck and pulls him even closer.

She wonders if this is the kind of kiss that inspires poetry. The kind that makes you feel like you're falling and flying at the same time. She decides it must be.

She never knew kissing could feel so magical and she never wants it end.

Draco didn't know what he expected when Granger pulled him in for the kiss but it is definitely not this.

Her lips are plump and inviting and he wants to devour them.

When he hears her moan, he is consumed by passion.

He needs more so he pushes his tongue into her open mouth and she lets him.

She tastes like honey and salvation.

When she pulls him closer, he lets her.

He wonders if this the kind of kiss that dreams are made of. It must be, he thinks.

He's never kissed or been kissed liked this before and he never wants it to end.

The minutes go by and the charm is lifted but they are not aware. They are only conscious of the feel of each others lips and tongues. Teasing, nibbling and sucking on each other.

It intoxicates them.

Finally, it comes to an end. The need for air demands that they stop.

They pull apart slowly and stare at each other in shock. They have finally come back to earth and realize what that have just done.

Hermione watches his face and her stomach clenches.

His lips are parted and swollen. His cheeks are flushed. His eyes—his eyes are burning and alive and she thinks that this is what desire looks like.

Draco watches her face and his heart constricts.

Her lips are bruised and she is breathing heavily. Her cheeks are stained red. Her eyes—her eyes are wide and shining. He thinks this is what perfection looks like.

Painfully aware of how close they still are—her arms are around his neck and his hands are gripping her waist for Merlin's sake—they both let go and jump back.

That is when they remember why they were kissing in the first place. Enchanted mistletoe. The kiss did its job because they are both now free to move as they please.

Nothing is said between them as they part ways and go to their separate house tables for the remainder of the lunch hour, for what could they possibly say after that?

Hermione walks to the Gryffindor table and her lips are still tingling—that's all she's aware of.

As she sits down, her friends bombard her with questions.

"What in the bloody hell was that,Hermione? Ron asks weakly.

"What do you mean?" she asks stupidly.

"You were snogging Malfoy!" he all but screams.

"Oh. Well we only did it because we had to. It's not like I _wanted_ to or anything. It—it was nothing." she mutters.

"It didn't look like nothing to me." Harry pipes up.

"Just leave it,Harry. Please." she says quietly.

He opens his mouth to reply but thinks better of it.

"It certainly looked like you were enjoying it." Lavender giggles.

Hermione glowers at her but does not reply. It's not like she can refute her claim and it makes her angry.

"Well did you?" Ginny asks suspiciously.

"What does it matter if I did or not?" Hermione sighs.

"It doesn't Just curious." Ginny says easily.

Hermione can't bring herself to answer. She does not want to lie but she's ashamed of the truth so she does the only logical thing.

"I have to go to the library." she announces and bolts from the room.

She runs all the way out of the great hall and dashes into the first abandoned classroom she can find. That is where she collapses in a mad fit of laughter at the incredulity of the situation. She kissed Draco Malfoy and liked it. More than liked it—she was consumed by it. The implications of what it might mean scares her but there is no time to dwell on the matter. Class awaits and she does not want to be late.

Draco walks briskly towards the Slytherin table and plops down. Everyone is staring at him like they've never seen him before.

"Not a word." he says savagely to the entire table.

"But Drakie!" Pansy whines. "How could you kiss that mudblood?"

"I thought it was quite obvious why I had to." he grits out.

"You didn't have to do it like that though. You—you liked it!" she accuses in a hurt voice.

"Just shut the fuck up, Pansy. I don't have time for your crap." he growls.

She does as she's told and the rest of the table averts their gaze. They all know better than to mess with him when he's like this.

He eats but doesn't tastes the food. Instead, he tastes _her._ He is both disgusted and aroused and it makes him furious.

He sees Granger running out the great hall and has to fight off the temptation to follow her. What he hopes to accomplish by doing that he does not know but the feeling is there and it is strong. He pushes it away. It does not matter. He knows he won't be able to concentrate on mending the cabinet so he decides not to skip his next class. He can use the distraction anyway.

* * *

After classes are finished, dinner is eaten and home-work is done, Hermione lays in bed and ponders about the meaning of her kiss with Malfoy.

Truthfully, she does not know what to think. It was necessary. A quick and closed mouthed one would have sufficed. That had been her intention when she went into it. Then her lips met his and she was _lost._ Nothing else mattered but the feel of him. The taste of him. She _craved_ it. Even now...She still feels the remnants of his soft lips on her. His delectable taste. She remembers the feel of his strong hands gripping her waist and her insides burn and her face heats up and she _wants_. She wonders what is wrong with her. Wonders why Malfoy has such an effect on her. Wonders if it will ever go away now that she has had a taste of just how entrancing it felt to _feel him._

He felt—feels—like a revelation.

Maybe he is not quite who she thinks him to be. Nothing about his kiss was what she would ever associate with him.

He was warm and soft and giving. He was also fire and passion and alive.

She always thought him to be: Cold. Rough. Selfish. Icy. Detached. Lifeless.

Maybe he is everything wrapped up in one magnificent being. She would like to find out.

She also sensed that he was desperate and vulnerable and she does not like it. She wants to know why. She wants to help him but she cannot fathom how to even begin.

Hermione closes her eyes and she lets her memory of the kiss wash over her.

In her minds eye, it is like she is experiencing it all over again.

Malfoy's hot mouth on hers. His hands on her body. His scent—masculine and spicy—invading her nostrils. They way he looked afterwards—mad with desire and searing need. For her. Her eyes snap open and she grips a fistful of sheets and rub her thighs together to still the unbridled ache for him coursing through her body.

She is not used to feeling like this. _He_ has done this to her. She should be ashamed but she finds that she doesn't care at all. They way he looked at her—like he wanted to make her his right then and there—it is something she has never known before. She adores it—the powerful feeling of being _wanted._

Something shifts deep inside of her. She is not quite sure what it is as yet but it feels right—monumental even. What she knows is that it has something to do with Mal—no— _Draco._ A vision flashes across her mind. She sees a future where she is in his arms. He holds her close and has already made her his time and time again. She has saved him and he has saved her. He smiles at her and pushes back a stray lock of her hair. He kisses her. They are happy.

She smiles and thinks absurdly that she may not be that in love with Ron Weasley after all.

Sleep takes her and she dreams of soft lips and strong hands and burning grey eyes.

* * *

The day has come to an end and Draco lays in bed and thinks about his kiss with Granger and what it meant—means.

He is confused to be honest. How could a simple kiss to escape the wretched enchanted mistletoe have gotten so out of hand? When Granger pulled him in for the kiss he was surprised at her boldness but there was no time to think about anything before her lips crashed onto his.

He felt it from the very first second that they kissed—a wild and intense pleasure—that he has never known before. It still shocks him that Granger— _Granger_ —of all people was the one to incite such feelings in him. Once they started he just couldn't get enough though. He wanted to have all of her. He still does—even now—hours later. He can _still_ taste her. Feel her. Smell her. He wonders what is wrong with him. Wonders how she has affected him so. Wonders if he will ever stop wanting her now that he knows— _knows_ just how good it feels to be with her.

It feels like a fucking revelation.

He is not quite sure if she's still the same person he always thought her to be. Her kiss makes him think otherwise.

Yes, she was warm and soft and giving—as expected— but she was also other things.

She was strong and demanding and controlling with her desire for him. She had fucking _fire._ Her whole self was hot blazing fire and she burned right through him.

He would never have though her to be like that. She was supposed to be meek and melting. Demure. Frigid.

She was anything but and he wonders if it was in reaction to him or if she's always that way.

Maybe it is both. He would like to find out.

He also sensed an underlying sadness and anger in her and he does not like it. He wants to know what is bothering her. He wants to make it go away but how he can do that, he does not know.

He closes his eyes and remembers their kiss.

The memory is a vivid one and he feels almost as if he's back in the great hall with her again—reliving the whole thing.

He is tasting her sweetness and feeling her small, soft hands on his chest and her thin arms around his neck. He is smelling her floral scent and hearing her titillating moan. He is seeing her face afterwards and the way she looked...ravished and dazed. His eyes open and the memory is gone. It—she—has left him hot and bothered and _needing_ though.

He knows he should be ashamed of himself for feeling that way about her but he can't be bothered to. Everything about her enthralls him. He keeps seeing her face at the end. She looked so satisfied and hungry at the same time. He did that to her. Not the weasel but him. It gives him a strange pleasure knowing that he was the one to make her feel like that—it proves that he is still capable of eliciting feelings other than dread and fear or worse, disappointment in people. He is cheered by the thought that he made her feel so good. It has been a long time since he's done that for someone.

Something is shifting within him. He can't quite place what it is but it feels right somehow—important even. What he does know is that it is connected to Gra—no— _Hermione._ He sees a sudden vision in his head. It is of the future and he is sharing it with her. He is holding her hand and she is laughing. She smiles at him and touches his face tenderly. She is his and only his. She kisses him. They are happy.

He smiles and thinks that maybe he doesn't hate his life so much anymore.

Sleep claims him and he dreams of plump lips and soft hands and shining brown eyes.

* * *

It is morning and Hermione wakes with a smile on her face and joy in her heart. It takes a moment for her to realize why she's feeling so happy. Then it all comes back to her. Yesterday's kiss with Malfoy and last night's musings. She remembers both instances clearly and she cannot help but blush.

By the time she is ready for classes, reality has set in. In the cold light of day she realizes just how silly she was being in dreaming of a future with Malfoy. They shared a fantastic kiss and she got carried way and romanticized the situation and turned it into something it was not. There is no way two people who have hated each other for six years can suddenly start liking one another after just one kiss( no matter how good it was). They are still the same people they were yesterday before the kiss and those two people can't stand the other.

Already she hears people (still) talking about it as she makes her way down to breakfast. They're all still shocked that him and I kissed and the nature of it. Apparently it wasn't right. It doesn't fit in with who the two of us are because Malfoy and Granger do _not_ kiss each other and the certainly don't enjoy it. She can't pretend that she isn't bothered by their comments. Would it really be so bad if she and Malfoy liked each other? It doesn't matter anyway, she decides.

Her and Malfoy will never be together. There is just two much history between and all of it is of the negative variety. To him and his kind, she will always be mudblood Granger and Harry Potter's best friend. Member of the light side and fighting against Voldemort. He on the other hand is a pureblood Malfoy who's father is a death eater. He will be on the dark side fighting for Voldemort. He will never want her. They are too different. Still—still it was nice to dream she thinks sadly. Dream of a different life than the one laid out for her. They could have been good together if they were only given a fair chance. She thinks if she got to know the boy underneath the facade, she would like him and maybe he would like her too—if he got to really know her. She had experienced glimpse of what he could be like yesterday when he let his guard down and let go his prejudice against her and kissed her like he meant it.

Grieving for a lost and impossible future, she sits down at the table and sighs internally before plastering a fake smile on her face and greeting her friends.

* * *

Morning arrives and Draco wakes up in a ridiculously good mood. He takes a minute to recall what has him smiling like a fool when it all comes back to him. Granger. It's because of her and the kiss they shared yesterday. It's because of the beautiful future with her he pictured last night. He smiles fondly at both memories.

By the time he leaves his dormitory, reality has come crashing down on him. In the harsh light of day he realizes just how stupid he was being for envisioning a future with Granger. All they did was share a brilliant kiss. Nothing more. He was desperate for any kind of happiness and he latched onto to that kiss and turned Granger into someone she was not. There was no way that Granger could like him or he could like her after just one kiss. He is still him and she is still her and they do not like each other. At all.

He hears conformation that he is right in all the talk about their kiss as he heads to breakfast. People are still surprised that they managed to do it let alone seemingly liking it. Apparently it was an abomination. Something that should never have happened. Granger and Malfoy do not kiss each other. Simple. He can't deny that he is not upset by their comments. Would it really be so wrong if he and Granger liked each other? It doesn't matter anyway, he accepts.

Him and Granger will never be together. Two much has happened between. Too much negative history shared. In the end he will always be the pureblood Malfoy heir who has no business cavorting around with mudbloods. He will always be the son of a death eater and one himself. He will fight for the dark lord and she will fight for Potter. His kin will never accept her and her's will never accept him. Someone one like her wouldn't want someone like him anyway. Not ever. They are just too different—complete opposites in fact. It was still nice to dream anyway. To dream about a different future—a bright one with all the happiness in the world. They could have been something special if only they were given a fair chance. He thinks that he would like the girl she truly was underneath the prim and proper guise. He had a small look into that side of her yesterday when she forgot herself and let go and kissed him like she meant it. Maybe she would like him too, if she knew who he really was and not just the side he presented to the world.

Mourning for a future that was lost, he sits down at his table and sighs before putting on his trademark smirk and facing his friends.

* * *

Both Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy eat their breakfast in silence, reassuring their friends that they are fine when questioned. Both are still sad after accepting that they have no future together. They both manage to look up from their food and glance at each other at the same time.

Their eyes lock. They cannot look away. Feelings are shared and revealed in that one look.

She smiles shyly at him and he smiles back just barely.

That is when thy know—they _can_ have a future if they want to. Not now—for too much is going on and they are on different sides of a war. But after...

When the world is rid of Voldemort and people are free to do what they want. Be with who they want. They just have to wait for that day to arrive. It may take years or not happen at all. Maybe they will no longer want each other when all is said and done, maybe there will be other people, but there is always a chance and that is what they cling to—the hope that everything will work out as it should.

In that shared smile lies a promise of what is to come.

A/N: So I've had the idea of this fic in my head for a while and I finally decided to write it. It's not quite what I had in mind when I set out to do it but this is the direction that it went. It may seem kind of far fetched but yeah, it is what it is. I hope my readers like it anyway :)

Review please!


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